


A Type, A Weakness

by hopelessbookgeek



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Gentle ribbing, Pining, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessbookgeek/pseuds/hopelessbookgeek
Summary: York is not allowed to attend South's wedding without a date and everyone else already said no. How on earth is he supposed to ask the (unrequited) love of his life to go with him?





	A Type, A Weakness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Legendaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendaerie/gifts).



> HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY SARO I'm a huge sucker for pining fics so

“Alright. Thanks anyway,” York said, hanging up the phone. He dropped it on the table and his head into his hands, nearly spilling his glass of water, and North had to snatch it back quick.

“Please don’t make a big mess in the diner,” said North. “The poor waitress is busy and I don’t have enough cash to leave a bigger-than-usual tip.”

“Everyone I know,” he said, moodily pushing his eggs around his plate. “Every single damn person I know is already invited to South’s wedding, doesn’t want to come, can’t make it, or is a persona non grata. Tell your sister to make fewer enemies if she wants people to actually  _ come _ to this damn thing.”

“South actually barred very few people from the proceedings,” said North, taking a sip of his coffee. “Niner, on the other hand…”

York sighed. It was only going to be a small ceremony anyway, he had no idea why South was so  _ insistent _ he have a date. It wasn’t like he could sit with them during the wedding itself anyway, he was the Man of Honor to complement North’s best man. If it came down to who he was partying with at the reception, he fully intended to match South shot for shot and spin Wash around the dance floor, grind to “Total Eclipse of the Heart” and slow dance to “Ignition Remix”.

“Do you know how many people I’ve asked?”

“Four,” North guessed.

“ _ Twelve!” _

“I’ll be honest, I was not sure you knew twelve people.”

“I can’t take you because South said so. Tex is gonna be out of town. Wash is already going with Tucker, Connie is taking whoever her beefcake boyfriend is, and do you know who just turned me down over the phone?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“ _ Wyoming! Do you know how humiliating it is to get turned down by Wyoming?” _

North smiled, took another sip. “You do look quite humiliated.”

“Everyone I know is friends with each other! Your sister is my best friend and she’s marrying my boss. I need new friends. Or to hire an escort, or something. They do that, right?” He frowned at his plate but at least ate a little more.

“You know,” said North, “in that list you gave me, I’m noticing a very prominent absence.”

“If you mean Grif’s sister, I have not replied to any of her Facebook messages–”

“Carolina,” he said, and York shut up immediately. “Did you forget to ask Carolina?”

He hadn’t forgotten and North absolutely knew that, was giving him that insufferable dad-knows-best smile that made South riot. It wasn’t that Carolina would  _ embarrass _ him or anything; she’d probably handle functions better than he would. She could certainly dance better, and she’d look lovely in formalwear with her hair drawn back.

And that was the  _ problem. _ He’d only known her a fraction of the time he’d known the Dakotas, but she… well, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he believed in love at first sight. Redheaded girls, girls who could beat him at arm wrestling, girls who laughed like the world was ending and fought as hard as they loved… He had a type, a weakness, and that was  _ fine _ except he had to think about Carolina and weddings in the same conversation and that was…

“I’m surprised she wasn’t already invited,” he said in a strained voice, not nearly as smooth a recovery as he’d hoped. North knew it, too.

“South and Carolina are a little too alike to be best friends, I think, but they can certainly be more than civil. A fact you’re willing to work with if you tried to invite  _ Tex.” _

“Tex would have had fun!”

“That’s probably true,” North conceded. “She’d be searched for grenades at the door, though, and might have less fun after that.”

North didn’t appreciate the sort of friendship that he had with Tex, but that was fine. York didn’t understand why North tipped thirty-five percent to the only waitress who worked this shift at the diner even though she never looked at him twice. Or rather, he did, and wished he didn’t.

“Guess I’d better call Carolina,” he said. “Or South isn’t even gonna let me in, is she?”

“No, probably not. You go make the call, I’ll get the check.”

**

Carolina picked up on the fourth ring like always. “ _ This is Carolina.” _

“Great! This is someone looking for Carolina!”

She laughed a little. “ _ Whatcha need, York? _ ”

He scuffed his heel against the sidewalk and watched an alley cat across the street beg for food. “You busy next weekend?”

“ _ Define busy. Did I have plans more substantial than staring at my bedroom wall all day? Yes. Can I drop my plans if you’re planning some shenanigans? Yes.” _

He swallowed hard, hoped she didn’t hear. “South’s wedding is Saturday and she says I can’t go without a date. Everyone else already said no.”

She said nothing for a while and he wondered if she was offended that he asked her last, or if she was going to complain about how last minute it was. “ _ Aren’t you like the maid of honor?” _ she asked finally. “ _ Isn’t the maid of honor supposed to go with the best man?” _

He wanted to go with her but felt strangely vindicated by that answer anyway. “That’s what I said, but I’m not  _ allowed _ to bring North, I guess.”

“ _ So to clarify, you’re asking if I’ll go with you to South’s wedding?” _

His eyes slipped closed and he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I– I guess I am.”

“ _ Okay, sounds fun. You’ll pick me up? What colors am I supposed to wear?” _

York could’ve laughed aloud, but that absolutely would not sound good, so he had to stifle it. “It’s like… indigo and gold, or something.”

“ _ Or something,” _ she repeated with a scoff. “ _ I’ll figure it out. Thanks for the invite. I gotta run, but I’ll talk to you later?” _

“Gotcha,” he said, grinning when he hung up. North came outside, frowning at his receipt before shoving it in his pocket. “Hey, North! Got myself a date!”

“You could’ve had a date weeks ago if you didn’t reduce yourself to asking  _ Wyoming _ first.”

“Just for that,” said York, who couldn’t keep from smiling anyway, “I’m not dancing with you at the reception.”

**

It wasn’t that York was nervous. He was absolutely not nervous, and he absolutely was not going to throw up on Carolina’s doorstep, but that was only because he’d already thrown up an hour ago. He rang the bell six times in rapid succession and his fingers drummed against his thigh, and he felt like he did picking his high school girlfriend for junior prom.

(She dumped him that summer and he went with South to senior prom, and he hadn’t been nervous at all. God help him.)

He rang the bell two more times and she yanked the door open. “You’re  _ insufferable _ ,” she grumbled, locking the door behind her. “Give me more than four seconds to get to the door. How long before you would’ve just broken in?”

He wanted to continue the joke and say “five minutes” but it came out a lot more like “fvvvvmmhmm.” It wasn’t that he was surprised that Carolina looked beautiful; she wore blue-green and it made her red hair more striking than usual, and in heels she was nearly as tall as he was. The cut of the dress exposed the sharp line of her collarbone and her strong biceps. That did not surprise him. He was not surprised.

What he  _ was, _ however, was completely fucked.

“You, you,” he said, and had to shake his head to clear it. “You look beautiful.”

Half her mouth quirked up. “I like the tie.”

York had balked when South handed him a gold bow tie but he was a good boy who did what he was told so he wore the stupid thing, even if it took twenty minutes to tie it. “I look stupid.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t. I said I liked it.” She offered him her arm and he took it with a smile, and even though it was his car she got in the driver’s seat without a second thought. “Open bar?” she asked, pulling out of the driveway and heading towards the church.

“Open bar,” he confirmed. “So what– what were your plans that you cancelled for this?”

She shrugged. “Coworker asked me out.”

“Oh.” York had no claim on her, would never say he did, and wouldn’t message her date to browbeat him like an overprotective brother. He wanted her to be happy. He just really wanted her to be happy with  _ him. _ “Sorry you gave that up for me.”

“Nah, don’t be. Open bar and festivities takes priority over awkward small talk and onion rings at Louie’s.”

“Oh, I see,” he said with a little laugh. “If he’d asked you out for onion rings at Tatnuck instead–”

“I’d ditch your sorry ass in a heartbeat.”

He laughed again. “That’s fair. Hey, turn here so you can drop me off out back. I’ll meet you after the ceremony but South will kill me if I’m late.”

**

It was a nice ceremony, all things being equal. South wore a tux and Niner wore a more casual white suit, and York would not  _ admit  _ that he cried while they were saying the vows, but he definitely was.

“That was nice,” said Carolina afterwards. Ceremony was over, pictures were taken, nothing of the formality left. Now it was time to meet at the reception for alcohol.

“It was,” he said, loosening his tie. “They really– really love each other, y’know?”

“Yeah. Hey, did you see North tearing up when they were trading rings?”

“I didn’t! I’ll only tease him a little.”

“Generous of you.”

She wasn’t looking at him– Carolina was responsible and kept her eyes on the road at all times– but he smiled at her anyway. They’d been friends for near on four years and they’d been the best four years of his life to date, never a dull moment. He knew some things about parakeets now and he didn’t get as many parking tickets. “Carolina,” he said, “thanks for coming. Really.”

“You thank me  _ now, _ ” she said, “because you haven’t gotten me drunk yet. If they don’t play the Cha-Cha Slide I’m gonna riot.”

“I hope they don’t.”

“What, just to spite me?”

“No,” he said. “Because that song has been out since I was sixteen and I  _ still _ don’t know what doing the Charlie Brown entails. I do something different every time and I think it’s always the wrong thing. I can do the Monster Mash!”

She laughed that wild, shrieking laugh. “They’re not playing the Monster Mash at a  _ wedding reception _ in  _ May!” _

He leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms, and pretended to sulk, but he couldn’t keep it up without laughing.

**

“She looks lovely,” said Wash, sidling up to York and handing him a flute of champagne. The party had been raging for an hour and York strongly suspected some people had been pre-gaming because Florida was a  _ little _ more raucous than expected. He also suspected Wash had been talking about a specific woman already and he was too distracted to notice, and searched the room quickly to think on who Wash would be commenting on. South? Connie?

“She does,” he agreed, to be safe.

“You have no idea who I’m talking about, do you?”

“Not a bit,” he admitted.

“Carolina,” said Wash, and York drank his champagne a little too quickly to avoid blushing. “You know damn well I mean Carolina.”

“You know damn well you don’t me to tell you she looks great. She’s Carolina. She always looks great.”

Wash rolled his eyes. “You’re  _ mooning. _ It’s so embarrassing, York.”

“I’m not– I don’t–”

“Save it,” he said.

“ _ You _ save it,” he said, and it wasn’t exactly  _ snappish _ but there was something sharp there anyway. “We’re friends. I’m not gonna ruin that just cause I… she doesn’t… let it go.”

He shrugged, but it was clearly more like  _ yeah alright whatever _ and not  _ okay I guess you’re right _ . “You owe me a dance, you know.”

“Get a few more drinks in me and you’ll get whatever you want.” Wash walked away with a laugh and it would take York eighteen more minutes before he realized why.

He watched Carolina chatting with Niner on the very edge of the dancefloor, a half-eaten mini quiche forgotten in one hand while the other gestured wildly; she’d always talked with her hands. “Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath, and finished his champagne. The way her updo exposed the length of her neck, the knee-length skirt that bared her strong calves, she was so beautiful it  _ hurt _ and he was honored to even  _ know _ her but that didn’t mean he didn’t want– didn’t wish– didn’t hope.

His friends weren’t gonna let him mope all night and he didn’t want to mope all night so he grabbed another glass of champagne and South and enjoyed the rhythm of whatever upbeat song was playing. “Congrats,” he said to her once, and she punched him on the arm, softer than usual.

“Thanks for being a part of it, dumbass,” she said, and he grinned. He let her spin him around but when he turned back he was face to face with Carolina instead.

“You looked like you needed someone to teach you something,” she said with a grin, eyes flashing.

“Make fun of me now,” he said, mock-threateningly. “Wait–  _ wait _ til the Monster Mash comes on. You’ll be  _ begging _ for a piece of this.”

“I don’t think I need to beg,” she said, and plucked the flute from his hand to finish the champagne before setting it on the nearest table. “Show me your moves, then.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re ready for–”

Even the DJ wasn’t ready for his moves, apparently, because he murmured something about  _ slowing it down _ and then it was some song York vaguely recognized from the soft rock station that was the only one that came in clear in the shop’s back room. “Oh,” he said, awkwardly frozen in place.

But Carolina didn’t break stride, she took his hands and set one on her hip, held the other, stepped close. It was swaying more than dancing, really, but it was comfortable.

Well, not exactly  _ comfortable, _ his heart was pounding and he was sweating and being this close to her, smelling her perfume, staring at the floor so he wouldn’t step on her feet… “The bow tie really does look nice,” she said softly.

“I tried to talk South into letting me wear a gold suit, but she wasn’t buying it.”

He couldn’t see her smile but he heard it in her voice. “You in gold head to toe? Can’t picture it. A little too ostentatious even for you.”

“I should give it a whirl. Just to see. Me rocking a gold suit, you all in… what color is that?”

“It’s turquoise. Are you asking me to be your partner in crime?”

“You are not the one phone call I’d make in prison,” he said, “but you would absolutely be sharing my cell.”

She laughed a little and leaned her head on his shoulder. He tried not to trip or make an embarrassing sound. “We should have a planning meeting. Go over the heist plans.”

“Is it a heist?”

“I think with your lockpicking skill, you and I are destined to be heist buddies.”

“A lockpick and a cop,” he said, mulling it over. “We’d be unstoppable. Meeting  _ on _ .”

“Okay,” she said, a few loose tendrils of hair brushing his neck. “You can take me to get onion rings at Tatnuck, how about that?”

He was not going to freak out. He was  _ not. _ He would not lose it at South’s wedding. He could freak out later but he had to keep it cool. “Sounds great!” he said, not coolly at all. “How’s tomorrow sound? Some grease to chase off the hangover?”

She hummed, squeezed his hand. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


End file.
